


An Alternative to Sleep

by BeeFresh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AW YISSS, Angst with a Happy Ending, Draco likes Harry, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Harry is an awkward bean, Implied Consent, M/M, No Smut, Ouch, Pain, Suicidal Thoughts, This is pure fluff, harry likes sweet tea, no actual suicide, ok maybe some angst but not really, sweet tea likes draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23760646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeeFresh/pseuds/BeeFresh
Summary: Draco cant sleep because of the nightmares. Neither can Harry. Loneliness and tea come together in a way neither of them expected. Can Draco put aside his fear and accept the help that lies in Harry? Can Harry put aside his fear and open his heart for real love? Who knows?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	1. Sweet Tea

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and Kudos are appreciated! Much love!  
> This has no beta, any mistakes are mine. You can bring them to my attention through comments.

Draco:

Draco ran a hand through his messed-up hair. He looked at the potion in his hand before taking a dose. He sealed the flask before slipping it into the pouch at his waist. The potion was starting to burn his throat. He threw his head back and forced it down. No, he’d rather endure the burn than the dreams.

He never expected to return to Hogwarts after the war. Heck, he hadn’t expected to survive the war, never mind be acquitted of his crimes and then return to Hogwarts. He wasn’t quite sure what had happened during his trial, but he had heard that Harry had testified in his favor. Harry had been the only reason his mother, Narcissa, hadn’t ended up in Azkaban with his father. He had prevented Draco from the same fate. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful.

Draco lived everyday in fear. Fear of his past, of his mistakes. Fear of his peers and what they thought of him, and most of all, fear of those dreams. He’d always been good at potions, so one night, he spent his sleep-time in the library, scouring the shelves for a fix. And he’d found it. In the bottle. A potion bottle that is. It was the opposite of Dreamless Sleep. It kept him awake. And he had been taking it religiously every since.

\-----------

Harry:

He couldn’t sleep. He was too alone. He hadn’t slept in a room alone since the bedroom at the Dursleys. And even then, he had Hedwig. Now he had no one. He had come back to Hogwarts after the war because he still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his life. Sure, everyone expected him to be an Auror, but he didn’t know if that is what he really wanted out of life. In the long run, he figured he’d had enough adventure and enough danger to last a lifetime. In reality, it had lasted a lifetime. So here he was. An 8th year student. Hermoine was here as well, but she was often too busy with her studies to sit and listen to his complaining. Ron had joined the Aurors and was currently in training. So few 8th years had returned that the tower set aside for their dorms each had individual rooms. No they weren’t big, but he was alone nonetheless.

And that brought him back to the original problem. He couldn’t sleep. For the first time in his life, he didn’t even have Voldemort in his head to keep him company. He was completely alone with his own demons, and Merlin knows he couldn’t deal with them. So, he got up. He paced for about an hour before giving up on the thought of sleep. He looked around the small room for his book before realizing he had left it by the chair he’d occupied earlier that day in the lounge. He sighed and ran a hand over his face. Guess he would be taking a short field trip.

He left his room and walked down the hallway to the stairs that led to the small common area. It wasn’t as nice as the Gryffindor commons but he was almost glad of that. No house colors to feel pride for, no competition. Just students living and doing their best to survive their last school year. None of the 8th year students had been separated. They were all together in the East Tower. Professor McGonagall had decided that they needed the support system. And as headmaster, the East Tower had been Magically changed to house the students.

He wasn’t watching where he was going, too caught up in his thoughts and his direction to really pay attention and nearly ran over the blond standing in front of the fireplace.

“Ah, Draco.” He shifted back and pushed up his glasses.

“Potter,” Came the curt reply. “What are you doing here at 4 am.”

Harry shook his head and pointed to his book resting open on a side table, “I came to get my book.”

Draco glanced at the book and then looked up into Harry’s eyes. Harry was shocked at how awful he looked. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in a week, but that wasn’t possible right?

“Draco? Are you ok?” The concern slipped out before he could catch himself. He could see the surprise on the other man’s face. The open emotion clouded into confusion and then stubbornness.

“I’m fine Potter. Take your book and leave.” The blond turned back towards the fire and lost his focus in the blaring flame.

“Oh, ok.” Harry didn’t really know how to respond to that. He stepped around the boy leaning on the mantel of the fireplace and retrieved his book. He looked up at the slim figure Draco made in the firelight and felt his heart skip.

He hadn’t expected that and his hand came up to rest over his heart. He looked down at the floor under his feet and scowled in confusion. Where had that reaction come from? One moment all he can think about his how lonely and scared he is, and the next, his heart is leaping at the image of the man in front of him. None other than Draco Malfoy.

“Potter?” He looked up right into the face of a very confused Draco Malfoy.

“Got heartburn Potter?” It came out sarcastic and almost mocking, but there was an undertone of something else in that comment. Harry shook his head and proceeded to take a seat on the couch in front of the fireplace. It was warm, and he couldn’t think of a better place to sit and read his book, and ponder on his new feelings than the couch from where he could watch the interest of said feelings without being caught.

\-------------------

Draco:

Since when did Harry Potter call him Draco?

Since when had Harry Potter gotten that haircut?

Since when had Harry Potter read?

Since when had Harry Potter talk to him?

Since when?

Questions swirled through his head as the man walked past him to retrieve his book. He stared into the flames and tried to avoid watching him walk. He heard a small gasp and looked up only to see Potter standing with his hand over his heart with a look of intense pain on his face. Was he hurt?

“Got heartburn Potter?” The quip came out almost before he could stop it. The man looked up at him and shook his head, letting his hand drop to his side before retreating out of Draco’s vision. Draco heard him settle on one of the couches in the commons and figured he wouldn’t be alone anymore for the rest of the evening. He considered leaving, but decided against it. He could feel Harry’s eyes on him. It felt weird, like he was being scrutinized. Watched under a microscope. He couldn’t help but wonder what those eyes would look like staring into the fire.

He hoped that Harry wasn’t in pain. He had looked like such torment was happening. But then had denied that anything was wrong. And he wasn’t exactly in a place that he could pry into the inner workings of a man that he had tormented for years. Fact was, he didn’t understand why he cared so much. How had his thoughts changed so fast? One moment, all he could think about was how lonely and scared he was, and the next, his heart is jumping at the thought that Harry could be hurting. What was wrong with him.

He shifted his arm on the mantel and leaned his head against his hand. He had spent the last few nights in the same position. Standing there for hours. The portrait above the fireplace was a portly man in a suit of armor. Draco could tell portly man didn’t approve of his nightly habits, but what could he do, he wasn’t causing any problems. There was no rule that students had to sleep. He wasn’t leaving the common room, and he certainly wasn’t causing any problems.

He just stood there. Staring into the fire for hours. Sure, it probably wasn’t good for his eyes, but when he was left alone with his demons, this was the only thing that stopped him from simply ending it all. But now, all he could think of was the brunet man sitting behind him somewhere. His heart ached. Why of all people, did he have to start longing for Harry Potter.

He looked up at the knight in the painting, “Tea please?” The question came out soft and understated. The portly man smiled widely and nodded before rushing out of his painting. The first night Draco had spent by the fire, the man had introduced himself as Sir. Plentefarious, but had said Draco could call him Sir. Plenty. He had also stated that his best friend was a painting in the kitchens. When Draco has voiced his desire for tea, Sir. Plenty had rushed to the kitchens to ask the house elves for him. And since then, all Draco had to do was ask. Plenty didn’t mind running around, and the boy was always so polite.

It was at that moment that Draco realized that Harry was indeed still behind him. He should have asked for some tea for him as well. He shifted and turned so he could look for the man only to be caught in those eyes. The firelight shone in them and they were staring right at him. Or through him. His breath caught in his throat. He had caught Harry staring at him. But, how could he be mad when those eyes. Those EYES. They were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Staring at him as if he were the sun and Harry had lived in eternal winter.

Draco’s voice cracked, “Do you want some tea?” A slight flush was rising up his body.

Harry liked his bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth for a moment before nodding, “Yeah” it came out as almost a whisper. Draco’s eyes widened and he forced himself to look away. Damn, he could stare into those eyes for the rest of his life. He heard a sharp pop and then a small falsetto voice.

“Master Draco, your tea!” The cheerful elf held a tray with a full tea set. He smiled at her and gestured to the coffee table set between him and Harry. “Please Dimsy, on the table.”

She smiled at him, “Of course sir, do you need anything else?” Draco shook his head, “No, thank you Dimsy, I should be done at the same time as usual.” The house elf nodded and apparated back to the kitchens.

Harry stared up at him like he had grown a second head. “Yes Potter?” Harry’s cheeks blushed red. Oh, that was a sight he could get used too.

“Ah, nothing. I just didn’t realize you knew the castle elves so well.”

Draco smiled softly, “Dimsy is a special elf. She is the only one that isn’t afraid of me.”

Harry nodded, “That makes sense.” He chuckled slightly before looking back up at Draco and immediately realizing he had made a mistake. The small smile that had graced Draco’s face was long gone, replaced with a cold mask.

“Draco, I just meant… agh, I don’t know what I meant. I’m sorry.” Draco ran his hand through his hair before kneeling in front of the table.

“How do you take your tea Potter.” He didn’t look up. The brunet had practically stabbed him with that comment. His heart ached worse. He was screwed. Now he was lonely, scared, and practically heartbroken all at the same time.

His hands shook as he poured the tea into the cups provided. He gave a small nod when Harry, no, Potter, replied.

“Uh, I like it sweet. So, plenty of sugar and cream please.”

He wished he had it in him to comment. Of course, Harry liked his tea sweet. The man was practically starved for sweet. Personally, he liked his tea bitter. He liked the bite, and the weird aftertaste. He handed the cup over to the man sitting in front of him, a small hope that he had made it right, and then poured his own.

He stood up and turned back to the fireplace and chose to forget his heart and lost himself in the fire once again.

\------------------

Harry:

Wow.

He was a royal fuck up.

How had he managed to offend him so badly?

He took a sip of the cup of tea. Damn. It was perfect. He’d never had a better cup of tea. Of course.

He looked up at the silent man standing in front of him. Of course, Draco would be sensitive about it. The last few years had been hell for him, just as much as it had been for Harry.

Maybe even more so.

Harry felt tears welling up in his eyes. Wait what? He was crying? He brushed his hand across his face and wiped away the tears falling down his cheeks. He felt his nose start to get stuffy and he did everything in his power to not sniff. He knew that if he made a noise Draco would know exactly what was going on. And he didn’t need that. He didn’t want pity.

He wiped his face a few more times before managing to get his emotions back in check. He turned back to the book in his hand, knowing that he would never be able to concentrate.

“Its ok you know.” Draco’s voice was soft.

Harry looked up at him.

Draco turned around caught his eye. He looked solemn.

“I know people are afraid of me. I know what I did.” Draco clasped his hands, “I did what I felt I had to do to survive.” Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Draco continued.

“People look at me like I’m going to whip around and hit them with an unforgivable. That’s my life now.” He let out a small sigh.

“Everything I’ve done, especially to you, I deserve to be hated. I deserve to feel the pain. I…” His voice broke. He wiped his face and let out a forced chuckle. “Don’t worry Potter, if you're wondering, I didn’t poison your tea.” Draco looked at the floor, almost in shame. He was trying to make light of the situation, but Harry wasn’t going to stand for it.

“No.” Draco looked up. Harry stood and put his book down. Carefully holding his cup of tea. He walked around the coffee table and stood face to face with the blond.

“No Draco, it isn’t ok.” Harry fidgeted with the cup in his hands.

“Draco, I. No. You are an amazing person. You are dedicated and strong. You inspired me to be better. To push myself harder. You don’t deserve pain. You don’t deserve to be hated.” He sighed and shifted a bit closer to Draco.

“In all of my life, I have only truly regretted one thing. And that one thing, was not taking your hand that day. I messed up. I caused you pain. I turned you away.” Harry’s voice dropped “All I can do is hope, that maybe one day, maybe, you will be able to forgive me.” Harry looked up into Draco’s eyes. The calm grey stared back at him with so much hope. “And you know what, this tea is the best I’ve ever had.”

“Draco, I..” He shut his mouth. Something in those eyes had changed. The pain was back.

“Draco… are you sure you’re ok?” Concern flooded his senses and he took a step closer. 

Draco took a step back and turned so his back was facing Harry. His arms came up and hugged around himself.

Harry felt his arm reaching out to touch him when he heard the watery response.

“Since, since when do you call me Draco.” It was harsh and cold.

Harry’s hand flinched back and he opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a sharp pop.

Dimsy had returned for the tea.

Noticing the cold atmosphere, she silently retrieved the tray from the table, and Harry handed over his still full cup. She gave a short bow and then left them.

Harry stepped back. He leaned over the table and retrieved his book. He glanced at the clock. It was nearly 6 am. His voice was barely above a whisper. “Goodnight Dra-.” He caught himself. “Malfoy.” The word tasted bitter in his mouth and he turned and practically ran from the room.

\---------------------

Draco:

He had done it.

He had chased Harry away. Harry hadn’t even attempted to answer his question. Just whispered a response full of such remorse and then ran. When he had first turned around, he could almost have sworn that Harry was crying. But that would be ridiculous wouldn’t it? Why would Harry be crying?

And since when did he call him Harry?


	2. Panic Attacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, its been a month, and I am sorry. I have the worst time management skills possible. But again, thank you for reading. No beta, all mistakes are mine, you are free to correct me in the comments. Much love <3

Harry:

His room was colder than he remembered. The book in his hand forgotten as he flopped onto his bed.

No.

What had just happened?

The words rang cold and crisp in his ears.

“Since when do you call me Draco?”

The hurt that was hidden behind those words felt like a thousand pounds on his chest. He couldn’t breathe. He turned over and sat back up. He couldn’t breathe.

When was his last breath?

He stumbled off his bed and out into the corridor. He prayed that Draco had left the common area so he didn’t have to face him again. The stairs proved a challenge. His bare feet hurt from hitting the wood, but he continued on. The castle was a lot bigger when you were desperate to get outside.

Finally, he felt the cool outside air hit his face. He gasped. Desperate for the air. He needed to breathe. He had too. He was choking.

It was almost like every failure, every pain he had caused, everything in his life he struggled with had lodged in is windpipe. He was drowning in his own mistakes. Golden boy or not, they were many. Regrets from the years of his life he could barely remember and the pain of being the savior of the wizarding world. It was all over, why couldn’t he let go?

He stumbled forward into the grass surrounding the castle. He had no specific direction but just kept walking. Maybe, if he walked long enough, he would hit the lake and lose himself in the deep water. He couldn’t see.

How could one interaction with Draco set this off.

It was a final straw on a giant pile. The rejection, a match.

How could one burn and drown at the same time?

He stumbled to his knees, legs giving out. He gasped staring up at the night sky. The dawn was soon coming, but here he was, alone in the dark. The open world was almost worse than the silent walls of his room.

He felt his consciousness fading. Maybe he actually hadn’t been breathing. That’s ok, he could handle this instead of the lake. He let go. Letting his mind slip into the blackness of his mind. Why, why was everything so dark?

Draco:

He had been standing in his usual place at the fireplace when he heard the stumbling. He looked up in time to see Harry rush down the stairs and make his way to the door. He looked drunk. But that was impossible. Harry had left him not 10 minutes ago. And he definitely didn’t poison the tea. He caught a glimpse of Harry’s face. He was pale, almost deathly so. Something was definitely wrong.

“Harry?” The words slipped out, laced with concern.

Nothing.

The man hadn’t even noticed his words.

“Harry?!” His voice raised, more desperation.

He moved from the fireplace and followed the other man through the door to the main part of the castle.

Still nothing.

He frowned. Well, something was definitely wrong. He called out Harry’s name more and more, louder and louder, faster when he still received no reply.

Harry was stumbling, searching for something, rushing. Going so fast Draco had to practically run to keep up with him. He was out of breath but something in him pushed him to go faster. To try harder. He had to catch up to Harry, Merlin knows why. He watched Harry stumble out the doors and he felt the rush of cold air blow by him. Neither of them were dressed for this temperature. It was almost winter. He shivered. What on earth was Harry doing?

He paused for a second, the black-haired man in front of him was not hearing him at all. And heading straight towards the forbidden forest. And muttering something about water? He wrapped his arms around himself and rushed forward again. Faster. Faster. Faster.

He almost lost himself in his thoughts. Draco snapped out of it. This was not the best time to dissociate about being cold. He skidded to a halt as he watched Harry slow down. The man did not look well. Even from the back. Harry slowed further. His steps became rougher and heavier. Then he stopped. Draco pushed forward, hoping to get an explanation of what was going on, but that didn’t happen. He reached Harry and stretched out his hand, only to stumble and try to catch him as the man in front of him fell to his knees. He spluttered, what? He froze, what on earth was going on? He watched in shock as Harry’s body went limp and he fell face forward into the grass.

Oh no.

Oh no oh no oh no ohonoohooononohoononononono.

“Harry!?” His voice was shrill.

He bent over and shook the still figure. “HARRY!?” His voiced got louder.

No response.

He shook harder.

“Harry! Harry please, wake up. Harry???” Nothing. The man was dead to the world. Draco fumbled around his neck while he tried to feel for a pulse. He had seen Harry dead before. He did not want to do that again. His cold fingers burned against the heat of Harry’s skin, the man was burning up. But it was there, a faint pulse. He levered his arms underneath Harry’s unconscious body and managed to flip him over. But the difficulty that that proved to be made him soon understand that there was no way he could get Harry back into the castle. It was cold. He shivered again. Panic coursing through his blood.

“Bloody Merlin Harry, what have you done.” His voice was hoarse from the earlier shouting. He couldn’t control himself. Shaking and trying desperately not to freak out, Draco ran through the events of the evening again, he couldn’t understand it. What had caused this. Either way, he needed to get Harry to warmth. He looked around; they were close to the forest. It would be a long trip back to the castle trying to carry an unconscious Harry that probably weighed 50 pounds more than he did. The panic rose in his throat and he let out a sob.

What the fuck Harry.

Draco punched his hand into the frozen grass surrounding them.

Fuck.

What was he supposed to do with this turn of events? He had to do something, anything. If he did nothing, Harry could die out here. Hypothermia was a bitch. He hung his head in defeat. But as he did so, a light caught the corner of his eye and he whipped his head back up. Of course. There was one person that would be able to help.

Hagrid.

Hagrid:

The banging on his door didn’t let up. It was loud and frantic, and he could hear the cries of someone behind the thick wood. Fang was not having either. Barking up a storm at the mystery person outside. He stood up from his chair and made his way to the door, pushing the big dog aside. He cracked it open. “Ay, what are ye doin’?” His voice was gruff and tired.

“Hagrid! Hagrid please. Please please. Come.” Hagrid opened the door all the way to find a sobbing Draco Malfoy on his step. The boy was positively shaking. And not only that, he was begging, crying, for Hagrid’s help.

“Ai, lad what is it. Come inside!” He stepped aside but Draco shook his head frantically.

“No!! No no, outside, its… pt. Its. Please, fuck.” Hagrid eyed him, as he smacked himself in the face and looked up.

“Please Hagrid, its Harry. I’m afraid…” He trailed off and then turned around and started running in the opposite direction.

Hagrid stiffened, what had that blonde idiot done to Harry this time? He booked it out the door and followed the wispy figure of the Malfoy until he watched him drop to his knees in front of a dark mass on the ground. Hagrid groaned.

Oh no.

He couldn’t do this again. He rushed to Harry’s side where Draco was shaking him repeatedly muttering” Harry please, please wake up… Harry what’s wrong.” Over and over again. Hagrid leaned over and felt at Harry’s cold neck. A pulse. He was only unconscious. Still concerning, but less scary. He huffed and picked up the man off the ground and started walking back to his shack.

Draco sat on the ground, frozen.

Hagrid turned a bit, “Come.”

Draco’s head turned slowly as he watched Hagrid carry the unconscious man. They were walking away from him. His head spun. Wait. No. He needed to be there. He scrambled off the ground and walked after the half-giant. Hagrid seemed to know what he was doing.

Hagrid grumbled under his breath at the unconscious Harry in his arms. “Again lad? What set yer off this time huh? Was it the blond ferret boy?” He shook his head; this was the fifth time this month Harry had suffered one of these panic attacks. He shoved open the door to his house with his shoulder and pushed past Fang who was quietly snuffling. He laid Harry down on the bed and turned to get him a warm rag for his forehead.

Draco was standing in the doorway staring at the limp form on the bed. Hagrid sighed. The boy looked absolutely miserable.

“Come in. Yah.” His voice was gruff and more than a little bit cold. The blond looked up at him.

“Are- Are you sure?” He pointed a small finger towards Fang who was staring at him intently.

Hagrid let out a huff, “Yeah, its fine. You’ve both had a night.” He waved at the boy and turned back to Harry’s unconscious form. He laid the warm cloth over his forehead and pulled up the blankets over Harry. The poor kid. Ever since he decided to come back to Hogwarts he had suffered from these panic attacks. He would work himself up so fast and so far, that he would collapse. And here he was again, lying on Hagrid’s bed, unconscious. Again. But this time he had brought the ferret with him.

Hagrid turned towards the blond who was currently standing by the door.

“Aye, what’d you do to him.” His voice was a bit more gruff than normal and Draco flinched.

“I swear it wasn’t me,” He hugged himself. “I was standing in the commons and he came downstairs, stumbling like a drunk man, he wouldn’t answer me or say anything. Just kept muttering about the lake, and walking.” Draco lowered his head, staring at his feet. “And then he just collapsed, and I couldn’t think of anyone else I could get fast enough.” His shoulders shook. The poor boy looked close to tears.

Hagrid shook his head and sat down at his table.

“Look Ferret, there are some things you need to be aware of.”

\---------

Hagrid:

Draco looked up at him expectantly and Hagrid shook his head.

“The war didn’t just effect you; you know.”

Draco flushed a bit, of course he knew that. Nevertheless, he stayed silent.

“Harry isn’t the same kid he used to be. Things changed. Dying will change you.” There was a soft silence in the room, broken only by fangs harsh breathing.

Hagrid looked Draco in the eye.

“He’s affected in a way he can’t explain. He gets like this. Panics.”

He shuffled a bit, “Usually he’s already here. Knows when its going to hit, but not this time, must have come on too quickly for him.”

Hagrid scratched his head, “Wonder what set it off this time.”

Draco curled in a bit more.

“I, I think it was me.” Hagrid looked at him.

“We had a weird conversation, and he seemed off, and I snapped at him, next think I know, he’s stumbling the down the stairs like a drunk.”

Draco shivered. It was cold in the hut and he was a very smol human.

Hagrid stared at the blond. It was hard to not have compassion on him. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and he was skinnier than should be healthy. He was small. And his awful posture didn’t help with that fact. He shuffled closer to the fire and added another log to it. Harry would probably be waking up cold anyways.

He side-eyed the blond for a bit more when he saw him pull out a flask and take a deep drink. He shuddered and then put it away.

“Ey boy, drinking aint allowed for students.”

Draco froze.

“Ah, uhm. It isn’t alcohol.”

Hagrid turned towards him.

“What is it then.”

“Ahm, it’s a potion.”

He was avoiding the subject, and Hagrid was not a fan of that.

“Ey Ferret, I’m a professor here, you should probably tell me what’s in the flask.”

Draco sighed.

“Its Wideye.”

Hagrid stiffened.

“Wideye? Boy why are you drinking wideye? Have yah been poisoned?”

Draco shook his head.

“No, nightmares.” Draco stared into the fire.

“How long have you been taking that.”

Draco shuffled and leaned forward on his knees.

“A week and a half.”

“You haven’t slept in a week and a half?”

“Yep”

Hagrid shut his eyes, “Im sure I don’t need to tell you that isn’t healthy and you're probably killing yourself.”

Draco opened his mouth to respond but stopped at a voice.

“Who’s killing themselves?”

It was slurry and drunk, but it was Harry.

Draco flashed across the room and knelt down at the bed, “HARRY”

Harry blinked back slowly. “That’s me.”

Draco forced himself to keep his hands to himself, but oh how he wanted to brush the hair out of his face. He looked so soft and almost like… no, no he was not safe. The concern Draco felt was only because he saw the stupid idiot collapse. Not for any other reason.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

Hagrid looked up at the two, then leaned back in his chair and stared into the fire. Wideye. The ferret had been drinking wideye for over a week now. That was not going to go well with a normal human body.

Harry:

His body felt fuzzy, like he’d just been high. Everything tingled. He could hear the soft sounds of people talking and the crackle of a fire. He felt calm, at peace, ignoring the black smudge on his mood from the events of the night. He slowly opened his eyes.

“…you're probably killing yourself.”

_Huh? Whos killing themselves?_

At first he panicked, how could they have known, but then again, he had never said a word, so he asked.

“Who’s killing themselves?”

He barely had time to get the words out before he was staring into a pair of eyes that seemed to hold the stars and the moon. Such eyes had the potential to wipe him out and he was in severe danger.

“HARRY”

He started, “That’s me”

His brain couldn’t function. Who were these eyes?

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

He should probably focus on what was happening, but oh, how could you focus on anything when the moon itself was staring at you.

“Beautiful.” He whispered. Voice barely heard, “So very beautiful.”

The eyes widened.

“What?”

Harry smiled, he was tired, and warm. He felt himself slipping back under.

Draco:

He stared at the sleeping boy in stunned silence. Harry had barely made a coherent sentence, and then he looked straight at Draco and called him beautiful.


	3. Wideye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, and yes, I know im obsessed with eyes, sue me.

Time skip: The day after

Draco:

His legs were long past numb, but he really didn’t want to move from his place by the fire. It was warm. Really the only warmth he felt these days. His eyelids were heavy and dry. Blinking brought a burn to them and he blamed it on staring into the heat of the fire for hours. Yet he knew, in reality, what he was doing to himself. He knew, but did he really care?

No, the answer was no, and he stood by the fire until he thought his legs were stone because no, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything. The only thing he felt was the flame. The harsh heat of the fire he stared into for hours on end. How could he not? It was fire, deadly and dangerous and the most beautiful… no. Not the most beautiful. Nothing could be more breathtaking than that vibrant green. Those eyes, with the deep navy rim, no, nothing would ever move him as much as the sight of those eyes. Ok, maybe he was dramatic.

Draco was lost in thought, deep enough to not notice the man walking down the stairs. Didn’t notice him stand beside him at the fireplace, and didn’t notice the stunning smile sent to Sir. Plenty on the mantle. But he wasn’t dense enough to not notice the soft hand on his shoulder. His head moved and then, there they were.

His favorite sight, the beauty that laid in the depth of blues and greens highlighted by a roaring fire. Oh, oh no. He was doomed.

He blinked, and the eyes blinked back as he slowly descended to this plane of Earth again.

His hearing came back first, then the feeling in his legs. And he gasped. His legs buckled and he felt strong arms around him. He felt, warm. He blinked the fuzzy from his head and realized he was sitting on the couch. He looked up and around until he met eyes with Harry.

“What happened?”

“Uh, I don’t actually know.”

Draco let out a soft huff, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I came down to, well, see you, and you were stuck in this trance or something, staring into the fire. I touched you and then you looked at me and then you collapsed.”

Draco could guess the rest, Harry had carried him to the couch.

“Ah well, I guess I was thinking harder than I thought.”

Harry scoffed, “Yeah I guess.”

Draco scowled at him. Its not like the daft boy would understand. He probably had nothing better to do than to annoy him.

“What were you thinking about?”

The question was soft and simple, and caught him completely off guard. And then his mouth was answering without his permission.

“Your eyes.”

He stiffened. Had that really just come out of his mouth??? YOUR EYES??? DRACO NO.

Harry blew out a puff of air.

“Really now, my eyes?”

He decided to be honest, might as well, he already blew it. Draco leaned back on the sofa and brought up his legs.

“Yes.”

“What about them?”

Again, Harry got a scowl, “Does it matter?” His tone was cold.

“It does to me Draco.”

Draco stayed silent, so Harry kept talking.

“Hagrid told me what you did last night. I guess I wanted to say thank you, and. And... that I’m sorry.”

Draco stared at him incredulously, he really was daft! He was sitting here apologizing for something he most likely couldn’t control. He opened his mouth to speak but Harry held up a hand with a sheepish look on his face.

“No, please, I get it.” He moved his hand to the back of his neck in a move that was ridiculously endearing. “No one wants me to apologize. But I know I made you uncomfortable last night before everything, I know that there is probably no way for us to ever be friends, but I guess I was stupid enough to try and I hurt you and Im sorry.” His form drooped, “Im sorry you had to see me like that, Hagrid said you were a bit shocked.” Harry closed his eyes and Draco frowned deeper.

“No.” A breath. “Please stop Harry.”

He took a deep breath and decided it was his turn to speak. At the very least so he could stop listening to this idiot ramble.

“Harry. I, don’t really know what to say.” He shuffled on the couch, _Ah yes Draco, we’re off to a great start._ “You and I, well, I don’t know if we were ever destined to be friends.”

He glanced at Harry, who still had his eyes closed. The pain was evident in the scrunch of his eyebrows.

“But I would like to try.”

Those eyes popped open again and Harry surged forward with a smile.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

Harry smiled, Oh man. If he thought he was doomed before, having that smile aimed at him sealed the deal. He blushed.

Harry turned and scooted closer to him on the couch. Draco turned to look at him, the man looked positively giddy. Oh, what had he just done? He had seen the hurt in Harry’s face and panicked, wanting to do anything to soothe it. So, he said he wanted to be friends. But no, he didn’t want to be friends, the way he felt, that was not friendly.

Harry pulled out a book he must have brought down earlier and opened it up. Draco was confused, he was reading? What? He was sitting here a mess of his own feelings, of which he would never take the time to sort through, and the daft man was reading?! It simply wasn’t fair.

Harry:

He felt higher than a kite. He wanted to pull the man next to him into a giant hug, but he knew he wasn’t allowed to do that. Just because Draco said that he wanted to be friends, didn’t exactly mean that they were. But honestly, any relationship with the man was better than none. So for now, he could be content with what he had. But if he was honest with himself, he would never be content until Draco was his. He pushed the selfish thought away and pulled out a book of poetry he had been trying to get through for the last few days. Muggle poetry was surely something weird. It lit a fire in him, making him feel things he couldn’t through magic. He had found his own way to ground himself. Being the center of the magic world his entire life made the wonder of it fade. It had its cracks and dirty places, but here, sitting next to Draco with the fire and his favorite literature, he could pretend his world was perfect, even if the illusion only lasted a few minutes.

The silence stretched out. Harry looked over to see Draco staring into the fire again, bright flames dancing in his silver eyes. He wondered what he had meant when he said he was thinking about his eyes. Lots of people commented on his eyes, mostly that they mirrored Lily’s, but Draco had such a vulnerable honesty about the statement that made him think he had missed something.

Moon eyes.

Something familiar about that struck him. When had he said that? Thought that?

He got raveled up in his thoughts until a soft voice caught his attention.

“Harry?”

He looked down at the man sitting next to him, “Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask you something, but I don’t want to overstep my bounds.”

Harry shook his head, “You won’t.”

Draco let a small smile grace his face and that pretty, pretty blush returned to his sharp cheeks.

“Last night you said something, and well, I guess I wanted to know if it was true.”

The blush burned harder and Draco curled into himself a bit more.

“Oh? What was it?”

Harry had no recollection of the night before, only remembering waking up in Hagrid’s bed and dreading the fact that he was there.

Draco looked at him and then looked away quickly, “Ah, um, never mind, it’s not important.”

Harry let the confusion show on his face, “You don’t have to be afraid to ask Draco.”

Somehow, the blush deepened on his face.

“Im not afraid.”

“Then ask.”

“No.”

“Do it, you already got this far.”

Draco let out an exasperated sigh.

“Fine.”

Harry waited.

“Last night, you woke up for a bit and when you looked at me you said I was beautiful. I wanted to know if it was true.”

Harry was shocked. He did what? Moon eyes. Oh, now he remembered. He let a smile creep back on his face.

“Yes Draco, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He looked down at his hands holding the book. Oh yeah, he was in big trouble. Draco just barely consented to be friends and here he was admitting he thought he was the most beautiful man in the world.

Draco, for his part was very quiet. Then after what seemed to be an eternity, let out a quiet “Oh.”

The man was a cherry. And Harry, if he had to state an opinion on that, liked it very much.

NO ONE POV:

They did this for a couple of days. Draco would stand by the fire until Harry walked down the stairs and then he would join him on the couch. Sometimes Harry would read and sometimes he would doze, and if Draco was very lucky, Harry would read out loud. His deep voice echoed in the meaning of poetry Draco didn’t understand. He would sit there on the couch, shoulder to shoulder with Harry and listen to his honey voice. It almost made him want to fall asleep. Almost.

And then he would remember and reach for the flask in his pocket and take a drink. He tried to not flinch in front of harry but Merlin it was painful. Harry frowned every time he drank it, almost as if he knew what it was. But Draco chose to believe that he didn’t know what it was.

Draco:

For the record, he knew this was self-destructive, but sitting here with Harry all night felt safe. Safe in a way he shouldn’t be allowed. He was sat on the couch back to the armrest staring at him. Harry hadn’t seemed to notice and was completely lost in his book. Draco couldn’t help stare. Harry had grown out his hair on top and had managed to not slaughter and undercut. Maybe he had gone and got it done. The hair on top was slightly curly, like he had stopped forcing a brush through it. He had also grown a lot. He filled out his t-shirts and put on muscle since the war.

And ohhh boy. Draco found him very attractive. Harry’s skin was tanned and he had small dark freckles on his arms. How he wanted to trace patterns in them. If he stared too long, he’d fall off the edge of this cliff he was standing on.

Draco pulled himself out of his trance and felt for his flask, he pulled it out and lifted it to his lips.

“Wait.”

Ok, maybe Harry had been paying more attention than he had originally thought.

“Yes?”

Harry looked up at him, “You don’t need that.” His tone was firm and there was a glint of determination in his eyes.

Draco frowned a bit, “How do you know that. You don’t even know what it is.”

Harry sneered, “Wideye…”

Draco’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but Harry kept going, reciting.

“Snake fangs, Standard, Billywig stings, stir three times clockwise, wave your want, leave for 8 hours, add wolfsbane, stir tree times anti-clockwise, wave your wand.”

Their eyes met, Draco’s startled and confused, and Harry’s dangerous and confident. They stayed that way for a minute until Draco’s hand started shaking.

_He knew. How did he know._

For a moment, Draco stared into those green, unblinking eyes in fear. He was caught. But then something changed. His heart started hammering and he felt the cliff edge cracking.

“Draco…” Harry’s voice was soft, gentle, as if he expected the other man to break.

“Draco please, you don’t need it.”

Draco set the flask down.

“You don’t know that.”

His voice barely worked, but there was no way he could let Harry believe he was right. He needed it. Depended on it. Without it, well, he doubted he could survive the nightmares.

Harry’s eyes turned soft. His expression open and calm. Draco watched as he reached a hand out fully expecting him to try and take the flask. His hand tightened around it, only to feel the soft brush of fingers on his cheek. His eyes closed. Oh, how long had he waited. He forced his eyes back open.

“I can’t live without it.”

“Why?”

The question was immediate and quiet.

“Because. I… Because I’m weak.”

His eyes closed again but this time, only to stave off the tears that were slowly gathering on his waterline.

“You aren’t weak. You are strong and brave.”

Draco wanted to believe it. Wanted to ignore the effect of Harry's words, his voice. But he couldn’t. The hand cupped his cheek and tilted his head upward. Eyes opened he stared at the man in front of him. Harry shifted on the couch, putting his book off to the side and moved towards him. He leaned forward until Draco could feel his breath. Harry stared at him for a moment, eyes running all over his face. And Draco? Well, he fell off the cliff. 

Draco let his eyes close once more, blushing under the intense stare. Waiting, until he heard it.

“Beautiful, so very beautiful.”

And then he felt the brush of lips on his.


	4. Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking it through with me! I love you all. Draco is a soft boy and he deserves some sleep. No beta, all mistakes are my own! Enjoy!

Harry:

Harry knew he was moving too fast, but the vulnerability in Draco’s eyes had brought him here. Crouched over the smaller man, kissing him.

_Kissing him._

It took Harry’s breath away. Draco’s lips were soft and gentle.

Merlin, he could do this for the rest of his life. But, even as the thought crossed his mind, Draco was pulling away. Harry opened his eyes, breathing heavy.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” His voice was thick and breathy. What had he just done? Oh no.

“Draco, Im so sorry, I don’t know…”

Draco cut him off, a finger to Harry’s lips.

“No. Don’t apologize.”

They met eyes. Draco looked, happy. Harry let a soft smile grace his features, Draco looked genuinely happy. There was no confusion, no fear, no pain, nothing that he had seen in those eyes for the past days. He leaned his head forward onto Draco’s. Noses brushing as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

They sat there until Harry’s arm cramped and he decidedly couldn’t hold himself up anymore, so he didn’t, choosing instead to collapse his weight onto Draco. He rested his face on the chest of the blonde and made himself comfortable between his legs. He wrapped his arms around Draco’s torso, hands meeting in the gap between his back and the couch. Draco let out a soft laugh and ran his fingers through Harry’s hair.

“So…”

Harry huffed, but didn’t respond and Draco let out another laugh.

“Harry, I have one more question for you?”

Harry opened his eyes and looked up at Draco’s face, pointedly not moving from his spot.

Draco smiled, “Why did you kiss me.”

Harry’s eyes widened. Was the man dumb?

“Draco, what part of ‘You’re so beautiful’ do you not understand?”

The question was petty, he knew that but honestly, he thought he had been so obvious about his feelings for the other.

Draco scrunched his eyebrows and let his bottom lip pout. “Mean”

Harry scooched up a bit to look him in the eye.

“Draco, for the past week I have given up the one thing that I love the most, my sleep, to spend the nights by your side. I can’t get you out of my head. I stare at you in class, changed my walking patterns so our paths meet more often, I haven’t finished the stupid book I started when it shouldn’t have taken me this long to do so.”

Draco blinked; he hadn’t expected this at all. Never mind that, Harry continued anyways.

“You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my life. Your eyes alone make me forget who I am. Your incredible, indescribably stunning, your blush makes me fall on my knees. Your heart is soft and sweet and I would do anything in the world to deserve a place in it.”

_Holy fuck._

Draco’s mind was a mess. Who knew that reading so much poetry could make you so romantic.

Harry on the other hand was staring at the crying boy in front of him wondering how he went so wrong. He was trying so hard to express himself, explain how he felt.

He untangled one of his hands and brought it up to wipe at the tears falling so freely and Draco leaned into his hand giving a little sniff and a laugh.

“Harry what the fuck.”

Draco laughed a breathy laugh. Smiling.

“What, what did I do? What did I say? Draco…?”

Harry fell quiet again as Draco eyed him.

Nothing. He wasn’t saying anything. Harry let himself curl inwards, felt himself slipping. Was he being rejected? He was certainly confused. His mind was whirling.

Draco brushed a finger down his cheek, distracting him from his internal turmoil.

“Would you mind writing that down for me?”

“Huh?”

“What you just said. I want to keep it forever.”

“Oh.”

“Harry don’t be daft; I’m crying because I’m happy.”

Harry smiled a bit.

“All these years, all I wanted was to be allowed to love you, and here you are, lying in my lap, begging me to do so.”

Harry stared.

“But Harry, you already have a place in my heart, and there’s nothing you could do that would make you undeserving of that. “

“Draco.” Harry let out a breath and wiped the mans tears once again.

No rejection. He could definitely deal with that.

“Draco, I love you.”

Harry knew he was staring at him in complete wonder but his love was sitting here telling him, telling him that he was loved. He was accepted, the person he was, was ok.

Draco:

Draco smiled softly at the wonder in Harry’s face, he was happy. He was feeling things. A burn that even the fire couldn’t replace. The cliff edge he had fallen off of was not a cliff at all, it had been a prison, and now he could feel himself flying. How could the goofy man in his lap do that to him. Make him so free. He licked his lips. He wanted to kiss him again.

So, he did.

And holy Merlin. Harrys lips were chapped and demanding and he could lose himself in this feeling. He was warm and content, and, tired. He was tired. And OH no, he needed to not be tired.

He drew back and watched a dopey expression come over harrys flushed face. He lifted the flask That was still in his hand to his lips only to have it grabbed from him.

“No!”

Draco started.

“Draco please, I’m begging you. Don’t.”

Draco showed no emotion, he didn’t know how to react.

“Draco, please, it’s killing you. I know you can see that.”

The desperation was clear in his voice, and Draco couldn’t make himself meet his eyes.

“I need it. The nightmares…” he shuddered, “I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyways, I’m just saving myself the pain.”

“Sleep with me.”

Harry blurted it out.

Draco met his eyes, even more startled.

“What.”

“Sleep with me.”

Harry’s voice was calm and assured.

“I will protect you. So, sleep with me.”

Draco couldn’t put together a sentence if he tried. What on earth was happening. So he said the only thing he could think of in the moment.

“Ok.”

Harry smiled the biggest he had yet. He slowly moved off Draco’s lap and gathered his things before extending a hand to Draco. Standing there in the firelight, flushed and hair mussed, he looked intimidating, and beautiful. Draco took his hand, and didn’t let go.

No-one:

Draco hadn’t slept in well over a week, afraid of the night terrors that would keep him up anyways. But laying in the warmth of Harry's arms, he wasn’t afraid. His body was reacting to the effects of the potion wearing off and he knew he’d have one hell of a time getting through withdrawals, but this feeling, was worth it. He was ready to let himself sleep.

He relaxed and drifted off.

Harry woke up after five hours, warm in the embrace of another man. Draco. He smiled; Draco was sleeping heavily. He was so relaxed, his face was soft and squished and he had a small string of drool running down onto Harrys blankets, and he was the most beautiful man Harry had ever seen in his life.


End file.
